


The Assignment

by fringebenefit



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-27
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-20 12:00:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11920458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fringebenefit/pseuds/fringebenefit
Summary: Pre-Calamity. As Link prepares to head out on the road with Princess Zelda, he thinks about all of the things that have happened in his life to get to this moment, and contemplates his place among the Champions





	The Assignment

_Snow boots…_

_Sand boots…_

_Warm doublet…_

_Climbing gear….._

 

Link paused as he looked down upon the clothes he had laid across his bed and tried to think of anything else he might need for the conditions of the harsher, along with the not-so-harsh areas of Hyrule. 

 

_Perhaps I should have been more categorical about this_. 

 

He simply wasn’t used to packing so many things before.  By nature of their training, Hylian knights were masters of improvisation.  In all of his previous assignments he had been able to get what he needed through trade, or by finishing small quests or other odd jobs for the locals while on assignment.  This practice was common, as King Rhoam wanted to make his knights not only visible, but assessable to the entirety of the kingdom.  In the two years since he became a full knight of Hylia, he had done everything from harvesting molduga guts deep in the Gerudo desert, to hauling construction equipment up Death Mountain, to searching for missing children on Satori Mountain.

 

But, with his newest assignment, Link knew that there was no room for improvisation.  He could make no mistakes, no small hesitations, and have no uncertainties, extending from anything as glaring as running out of arrows, to as inconsequential as not having a spare hair tie. 

 

The rumor that King Rhoam was thinking of appointing a personal knight to escort his daughter Zelda had swirled around for several weeks.  The Princess had appointed herself to oversee the champions along with their divine beasts, and along these same lines, she oversaw the work with the guardians.  There were whisperings that she was completely obsessed with ancient Sheikah technology, even going as far as claims from scornful nobles that she would rather have been borne of the tribe.  Her self-appointed responsibilities often took her to far-flung places in greater Hyrule, and the rising threat of the Calamity made the road a hostile and dangerous place. 

 

 His eyes drifted to the sheet of parchment that had stated that assignment, which laid haphazardly across his small desk. 

 

_“You do realize that this is a very different type of assignment than the ones you have been getting, right son?”_   His father’s words echoed through his mind as he had handed the parchment back to Link, a proud, but bemused expression written across his face.  His fellow knights had all grinned at him, tousled his hair, and slapped him on the back, then went back to planning their next assignments where they would be doing such things as keeping the Bridge of Hylia clear of Yiga clan warriors and wannabes.  In the days that passed, the realization sunk in that he would not be joining them, and it weighed heavily on his mind.

 

A shout from coming from outside his window sounded, followed by the clash of metal against metal.  Link stood up and peered down at the courtyard, where the squires; boys and a few girls of 11,12 years old were practicing their melee combat skills.  The training swords were marked with paint, such that each strike would make a bright green mark.  _Good to see they are still keeping my idea, even if I no longer teach the class._   He looked down at Sir Mattson, his replacement in training the squires and felt a twinge of jealousy.  He knew the older knight would do more than fine; he had been one of Link’s instructors, and had come out of retirement at Link’s behest until a suitable replacement in melee training had been found.  Still, Link found himself wondering if Mattson had insisted they pay mind to their three-point attacks, as he knew the young squires always tended to revert back to swinging their weapons wildly when confronted with the chaos of melee battles. 

 

_I wonder if I’ll be back to teaching in the fall?_   As soon as he thought this, he dismissed it.  His new assignment also had another major difference.  It was to be his only assignment, which until now had been divided between field missions, castle formalities, and training the young squires.  The only way he would be back to teaching was if he was to fail at his mission in some way….and it was understood all at once that he was not to fail.  He took a deep breath and tore his eyes away from the window, looking back towards the various items he had laid out on his bed.

 

_Bedroll…_

_Collapsable pillow…._

 

He frowned slightly at these two items, wondering if he would actually be doing any camping, or if the princess would prefer to stay in various inns along the way.  He had tried to get an idea of her wants as the two of them visited for a few minutes the previous day, for the purpose of planning for the trip.  The whole while, she spoke in her clipped, royal accent about what grounds they would cover each day and their tasks on the road.  The tasks all seemed easy enough; Link knew that there would likely be some trouble on the road with bandits and monsters, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. 

 

The main issue was that he couldn’t tell what exactly the princess wanted.  He never had any presumptions that the two of them would have more than a professional relationship, but he easily caught on to a sense that the Princess almost mistrusted him.  She spoke like a politician; giving him only the information that she thought he should know, then omitting or glossing over the rest.  When he had inquired about the possibility of camping, she had simply replied, “Whatever is the most convenient at the time,” before moving on to describing the goals of their travels through the Gerudo desert.  Link knew that the safest bet would just be to take this statement at face value, but he was having trouble disregarding the peculiar look that had passed over her face as she said this. 

 

He looked back towards the items laid out on his bed, and the bright blue fabric caught his eye.

 

_Champions’ tunic…._

He had hoped for a better sense of camaraderie with the Champions, but figured it would take some time.  He knew he took for granted the sense of kinship that had developed with his fellow knights over the years, and hoped for a similar feeling with the rest of the Champions.  At the same time, he knew not to get his hopes up.  The Champions may have been warriors much like him, but they were also seasoned politicians, royalty, leaders.  Link had no such titles to his name and past, the only thing that set him beyond his skill was the Master Sword. 

 

As he studied the tunic, his mind went to the previous day, to that strange ceremony in which he had been blessed by the princess as the bearer of the sword that seals the darkness.  He thought it a little unnecessary, but he dutifully knelt and bowed as if he were in front of the king.  He was not at all surprised to hear a fair bit of whispering among the other champions, but when paired with the faltering, hesitant voice of the princess, he knew exactly what they were all thinking.  He very well knew that at first glance, he did not look like much of a warrior.  He had always been on the short side, and his build was best described as “slight”.  But he had grown up training alongside many of the men who now fought with him, and they had long known not to underestimate him.  He had been the youngest squire in Hyrule’s history to be knighted, and had held the highest ranking in the short time since.  Then, there was the small factor of the Master Sword.  All of these things considered, it was not surprising that he had been appointed as the Princess’s personal escort.  And yet, it seemed like these things did not matter to his fellow Champions.  To them, he was still a boy about to stare down a battle that he did not understand. 

 

_Well, not all of the Champions_.  He thought, mainly thinking of Mipha, the Zoran princess.  He had known Mipha for many years, dating back to when he was young.  His father, prior to his promotion to the Royal Guard had been stationed in Zora’s Domain, working closely with King Dorephan.  Link himself had attended school with the Zoran princess and the two of them had relaxed into an easy childhood friendship.  Link and his father had relocated back to Hyrule castle when he was twelve, for the dual reasons of his father becoming a member of the Royal Guard, and as Link was appointed as a squire, marking the beginning of his serious training.  He had returned to Zora’s Domain regularly through the years to for the purpose of visiting his mother, then later on assignments.  Each visit had shown that his bond of friendship with the Zoran princess remained strong.  He figured he could count on Mipha as an ally, yet, she had remained silent during his swearing-in ceremony.  

 

Link sat down on his bed and fingered the cuff of the champions tunic, his mind still dwelling on Mipha.  He had felt a slight sense of hurt over her hesitation to defend him, but had instantly buried it.  _Think about your priorities.  She is Vah Ruta’s pilot first, a Champion second, and your childhood friend third.  We are all adults now, with clear missions and goals._   He knew himself that he was Princess Zelda’s bodyguard first and foremost, with the wielder of the Master Sword at a close second.  In the near-impossible hypothetical situation arose in which he needed to decide between saving Mipha’s life, or Princess Zelda’s, he knew that he was bound by duty to save Princess Zelda’s. 

 

He had briefly met both Urbosa of the Gerudo and Daruk, leader of the Gorons while on assignments in the Gerudo desert and the Elgin region, respectively.  Daruk had immediately given him a firm handshake, much like he had done while reporting to Goron city the previous year, but this time, he had given a hearty congratulations on his new appointment to go with it.  Link was grateful for the warm attitude that was typical of the Gorons, but he also got the sense that Daruk did not remember him from the few times he had visited the city.  As for Urbosa, she for sure had remembered him from the way he and his team had been able to harvest molduga guts quickly and almost recklessly by jerry-rigging a chain of explosives, yet she regarded him with an indifferent air. 

 

As for Revali of the Rito people, he was the only Champion besides Link to only have the label of Warrior.  Link was hoping that he would strike it off with the Rito warrior on account of this, yet Revali treated him with open disdain.

_I’ll just have to prove my skill to Revali, to Urbosa, and to Daruk_.  He thought, then paused. 

 

_…..or perhaps not.  It is not my job, nor should it be my concern to impress the other Champions.  Only to protect the Princess and assist her in sealing away the Calamity._

 

He tossed the Champion’s tunic aside rather unceremoniously, and looked towards the pieces of armor he had laid out.

 

_Spaulder…._

_Chest plate…_

_Bracers, two pairs…._

 

He typically avoided heavy armor, as speed was always his main strength and anything that countered that was a hindrance to his abilities.  He knew he was skirting protocol, but the other knights had grown used to it and knew that he relied heavily on enchantments and elixirs that provided defense.  With the right ingredients and a modicum of skill with a shield, heavy armor was completely unnecessary. 

 

Outside, he heard the commanding voice of Mattson again, and he found himself walking over to the window once again to peer down at the squires.  They were all lined up to listen to the lesson, and to his delight, he noticed that instead of sparring weapons, they wielded objects that were typically not characterized as weapons; but items such as push brooms and soup ladles.  He remembered his own training, how his instructors stressed the idea that when it came down to it, a knight’s true weapon was his body and his mind.  He should be able to use any kind of object to win a fight, and with the right skill and quick thinking, even a pillow could become a deadly weapon.  Link chuckled at that last thought, recognizing it as a line that Mattson had given to him several years back.  The idea had seemed ludicrous, but then the older man had suddenly tossed a pillow at him, then shoved him backwards into a mud puddle while he had been distracted. 

 

_“Now, I probably could not use that same trick on you again, you would be ready for it.  And that leads to my next bit of advice.  You need to make that shove count; direct your enemy off a cliff, into a body of water, into another enemy, or at the very least, be prepared to follow up with a stronger, more definitive strike.  Make it count!”_

 

Link paused as he remembered these words, and looked up to the row of weapons he had hanging on his wall.  He may have the Master Sword, but for preparations sake they would certainly be coming with him.

 

_Knight’s bow…_

_Royal bow…._

_Royal sword…._

 

They were all fine weapons, lightweight, durable, and exact.  But, Link took comfort in knowing that he could also effectively wield a pitchfork, a torch, or perhaps even a tree branch if needed.  His eyes drifted to the weapon on the end of the rack and he frowned slightly.

 

_The Knight’s Halberd_.  Spear-like weapons were not his favorite; he saw them as rough and slightly ineffective, perhaps only useful for their ability to keep distance from your foe.  _But then_ , he thought, _at this point I could keep even more distance and fire off enough arrows to deter whatever is bothering me._

He remembered sharing this opinion when he was just thirteen, while eating lunch with his fellow squires.  He did not quite know what triggered him to speak up and denounce such a prominent tool of his trade, perhaps it was the number of blows that he needed to deliver for his sparring partner to yield, or perhaps the fresh bruise that throbbed near his ribs.  Strangely enough, the rest of the boys had agreed with him, and he unwittingly started a small revolt against use of the weapon.  Unfortunately the battlemaster caught on to it and the squires were made to only use spears in training the next several weeks.  No bows, no swords, no clubs, only spears.

 

_Perhaps it was frustration over how the clumsy weapon delivered blows, or the way that each blow he delivered left him slightly off balance, or perhaps it was that he missed the newfound ease he had spent the last few months gaining with a sword, but he decided to take a different approach and use it as a staff.  As his sparring partner leaned forward with a thrust, Link easily sidestepped and swept the other boy’s legs out from under him, much like a Sheikah warrior would.  His spear didn’t balance quite as a normal staff did, but it was effective nonetheless.  His fellow squire was taken by surprise and cried out as he landed hard on the ground.  It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make everyone pause and turn around.  With all eyes on him and the sight of his partner stunned on the ground, Link raised his spear above his head with both hands, and gave his best Faron Barbarian battlecry, topped off only by his adolescent voice cracking awkwardly.  As expected, laughter broke up among the squires, even affecting the battlemaster._

_That day forward, Link had started somewhat of a new revolt.  The squires all took to using the spear, but they all adapted to fighting in the style of Faron Barbarians, charging and shouting, brandishing their spears above their heads as they rushed to attack.  Link himself planned a charge on horseback that the squires had unanimously decided to use for a test.  He reveled in the feeling as he lead the assault, twirling his spear above his head as he lead his team of fellow squires to successfully rush and secure a mock enemy camp, comprised of a group of older, more experienced knights-in-training._

_The battlemaster had called it “largely unconventional and irregular for Hylian Knights, but very effective nonetheless.”  And Link was given special recognition that year._

He shook his head slightly to rid himself of the memories, forcing himself to return to the present. 

 

Link glanced to the nightstand, and noted the object.

 

_Ocarina….._

 

In King Rhoam’s reign, Knights were supposed to be chivalrous, and Link had plenty of training in music, dancing, and manners.  Somehow, his mother caught wind of this, and send Link a fine, beautiful ocarina.  He leaned over to pick it up and turn it over, recognizing the style that was typical of Lurelin art.  _My mother…was she in Lurelin?  I thought she had been living in Hateno after she left Zora’s Domain…or had she left again?_

_She promised me she would be staying in Castle town, that she would never be far…._

 

He sighed and placed it back down as if to stop the flow of memories that threatened to flood his mind, and decided that his ocarina would not be coming with him. 

 

_Focus…you need to focus_.  _You are now Princess Zelda’s appointed knight and the bearer of the Sword that Seals the Darkness, and you need to pack your things._

_Speaking of the Sword that Seals the Darkness…._

 

Link glanced over at where he had propped it against the corner of his room.  He knew that his young age, his rankings, and his skill were impressive, but it all took a backseat to the metaphorical elephant in the room that was the Master Sword. 

 

Looking back to his childhood, Link had plenty of dreams about fighting monsters while brandishing a magical sword to rescue a princess, _but_ , he figured, _what boy didn’t have dreams such as this?_   The dreams continued as he got older, and while he found it slightly embarrassing to be having such childish dreams, he secretly enjoyed the thrill they gave him, as he imagined the fights he had in reality as he trained.  He had only told one person of them, his childhood friend, Mipha.  It had been a warm afternoon in Zora’s Domain.  Mipha had requested that Link join her on a hike up to Shatterback point.  _“I’ve been feeling a little melancholy, and want to clear my mind.”_   She had told him.  On the way, Link decided to break the silence by explaining how he still had these childish dreams in a self-deprecating manner, hoping to get a chuckle out of her.  Instead, she had paused, blinked, and looked at him in such a way as if she was searching into his soul. 

 

_“Are there any fairies in your dreams?”  Mipha asked him, a false lightness to her voice._

_“Actually, there are.  Well, perhaps just one.”  Link said, his cheeks flushing with mild embarrassment at her scrutiny._

_“Oh?”  Mipha said, keeping the same tone.  “What do they tell you?”_

_Link frowned, searching his memories.  “They tell me to listen.”_

 

Mipha blinked, and he noticed tears welling up in her eyes.  Instantly uncomfortable, he had asked her whatever the matter was, and received a shake of the head and a never mind dismissal.  Still, he noted that Mipha kept a polite distance for the remainder of his visit. 

 

More than a year later, after he turned fourteen, that was when the incident happened.  And, it changed everything.  His hand instinctively drifted to his chest, and he probed the scar that remained through his thin tunic as he studied the Master Sword. 

 

_He had gotten into a stupid argument with one of the other squires as they practiced their archery skills on horseback.  Link didn’t quite know why, but he always held a bow rather irregularly, choosing to draw back the string with his wrist facing outwards instead of inwards.  Over the years, Link had taken a lot of good-natured ribbing regarding the rather feminine manner and all of his instructors’ attempts to fix it, but as he started climbing up the rankings, the ribbing took on a more malicious tone, until one day Link finally gave in to anger._

_“No, I think it is you who is doing it wrong.  After all, I am better than you, aren’t I?  So perhaps you should consider that my method is the correct one!”  He had exclaimed to Walsh, a fellow squire.  He then hauled over to the stables, mounted a saddleless horse and head off to not only hit all of the targets meant for him, but then he crossed over to the next range to rapidly shoot the targets meant for Walsh as well.  He knew it was a petty action to take, but wanted to lord his skill over the other boy._

_As Link neared the last target, it all happened at once.  Something solid violently rammed right through and knocked the wind out of him.  He looked down as his fingers went slack, and saw an arrow protruding from his chest. His horse bolted and Link remained stationary, hitting the hard ground a split second later.  He vaguely noted several people running towards him, but all of this was unimportant to the fact that he was unable to draw breath.  As his fellow squires gathered around him, all he could do was cough weakly to try clear the metallic taste that was in his throat._

_“You idiot!  Why aren’t you wearing a chest plate?”_

_“It’s against the rules to be on the range with no armor.  He knows this.”_

_“I thought he was wearing armor!  I swear!  I didn’t mean to kill him!”_

_“Nell!  Go and fetch the palace physician!  And…I’ll go and notify his father.”_

_What followed was a strange mish-mash of sounds, images, and scenes.  He saw places that he knew were in his memory, and places that he remembered from his dreams, but had greater sound and clarity.  He stood in front of an ancient tree that had come to life, he saw himself running through an endless field with wolf paws and a strange, chattering being with a hand for a head on his back.  “Listen!”  A fairy kept telling him, but he didn’t quite know what he was listening to.  He was in different versions of Goron City, in Zora’s domain, in Gerudo city, but when he looked for the people he could recognize, they had all changed, not just in face, but in form.  He saw the tall, regal figure of a goddess, who looked very much like the departed Queen.  A large sheep ran at him, which he quickly subdued by grabbing the animal by the horns and tossing him aside as if he were a lamb.  Then the mists seeped in to block out the sun, and as he lit a torch, it illuminated the gnarled trees that seemed to close in on him.  He ran in the direction that the wind took him, and finally came upon the resting place of the Master Sword among the people of the forest.  “Listen, listen, listen, listen, listen….”, the voice kept calling out to him._

_When he finally came to, he opened his eyes to see the blue of Zora’s Domain and blinked against the light, feeling the throbbing pain that the arrow had left behind.  Mipha was leaning over him, her hands on his bare chest.  Noticing that he had stirred, she spoke to him in her calming voice.  “Stay still Link, I will need quite a bit more time for this.”  He blinked again and tried to focus.  He was obviously in Zora’s Domain, but which Zora’s Domain was it?  “Ruto?”  The name came out as a whisper, and he did not quite know why he had asked for that name._

_“Hmmm?”  Mipha had asked, her full focus on healing him.  It seemed to be working, as the pain in his chest was lessening.  As he gained lucidity, he remembered what had happened, and exactly who he was._

_“Mom?”  He croaked._

_Mipha had looked at him sadly.  “She left several months ago.  I think she was going to Hateno to start a vineyard, she had been talking about it for quite some time.  Didn’t she…”  She paused uncomfortably, “She said she wrote a letter to you, telling you of her plans.”_

_Link had no response, he merely closed his eyes and swallowed against a lump that formed in his throat.  He felt tears forming, and allowed them to spill over._

_“Oh Link, I am so sorry…so sorry.”  Mipha repeated to him, but he barely heard her.  Almost instantaneously, he heard a voice ring out.  “Listen!”  It was as if the voice flipped a switch in his mind, and he instantly thought of the sword, lying in wait among the Children of the Forest.  He took a breath and sat up against Mipha’s hands, ignoring the lightheaded sensation that resulted and resisted her attempts to push him back down.  “Link wait!  I am not finished yet…you will have a scar!”_

_“How many days has it been?  I have to get back to training.  How did I get here?  Is my father here?”  In the back of his mind, Link knew he was being rude, but it seemed strangely inconsequential.  He stood up and Mipha stared at him, confused at his abrupt change in demeanor.  “Well?”  He asked, when he didn’t get any answers from her._

_She waited a moment more, furrowing her brows.  “Link…are you feeling okay?  You gave us all quite a fright.  I’m surprised you were able to make it all the way here without-,” She paused and swallowed, “without dying.”_

_Link tapped his foot, growing frustrated that she had not answered any of his questions.  Finally Mipha spoke again, quiet anger in her voice.  “You arrived here yesterday, and I have been tending to you all night, healing you from the inside-out.  Your father is up in the throne room, speaking to my father.”  She narrowed her eyes slightly.  “I believe you know where it is, and you do not need me to accompany you there.”  She turned and stalked away from him, and he felt no remorse._

_When he was able to return to training, he returned with the full force of a man with something to prove.  He had always shown talent, but he trained with such a fervor and intensity that he quickly rose to the top of the rankings.  He went to bed early, woke up early, and considered everything that he ate solely in terms of the energy that it would give him.  He didn’t train without first securing weights around his ankles and wrists, and when the squires were excused for the day, Link would cap off his training with a lengthy run, swim, or climb.  Before he knew it, he was qualified to skip ahead one year, then two full years.  During melee training, he handily dispatched men who were larger, older, and more experienced with a ferocity that at this point surprised no one.  At fifteen, he had already reached the height he would have for the rest of his life, yet his body became harder with dense muscle._

_While other of the squires in his class took an interest in women, food, and sneaking alcohol, Link kept his mind on his task.  And as his mind was preoccupied with his training, so was his disposition.  He had previously been soft-spoken and mild-mannered, but now there was no room for anything but his determination.  His fellow squires, boys that he had at one point considered as friends kept at him, trying to get some of his old personality back.  But, it was no use.  Link felt as though that he had become like one of the guardians that the princess was trying to resurrect.  And strangely, he didn’t pay it any mind.  He forgot his father’s birthday, remembering the hurt that had passed over the older man’s face, and then he forgot his own birthday.  He did not visit Zora’s Domain that year, choosing to remain at the Castle._

_At one point, Link passed all of the tests required to achieve knighthood, but to him, they felt like formalities.  There had been a grand ceremony and reception for the new knights, but Link only felt annoyance that he was being kept from his tasks.  Yet, he still dutifully knelt in front of the King and his daughter to receive their blessings.  As soon as the ceremony was over, he went directly back to the archery range while the reception raged into the night.  Even thought he was now a full knight, he still felt compelled to do nothing but train, train, train.  As he and his fellow knights set out on missions, he kept his mind towards his practice so that he was always improving, always achieving…something that remained out of his reach.  Through it all, his dreams remained as vivid as they did after he had been shot.  They varied wildly, but all ended with him making his way through the Lost Woods to come upon the Master Sword in its resting place._

_In the strange year that passed, Link had very few specific memories.  One of the memories was of him sitting in the kitchen of the castle apartment that he shared with his father as the two of them ate breakfast.  His father had been asking the usual tedious questions of small talk, with which Link provided only one-word answers that had been typical as of late.  At one point during their meal, his father became silent, and stared at Link peculiarly.  Feeling his gaze, Link looked up and raised an eyebrow.  Finally, his father spoke.  “At times like this, I wish your mother was here.”_

_Confusion washed over Link.  It had been years since his father had spoken of his mother. Why in Hylia’s name did he wish she were here?  “And for what reason would that be?”  He asked in his flat, emotionless voice.  His father did not respond, so Link concentrated on his breakfast once again._

_Then, one morning as he neared his sixteenth birthday, his compulsion to obsessively train ceased, and was replaced by the compulsion to go to the Lost Woods himself to fetch the Master Sword.  He dressed in civilian’s clothing, packed a small bag and was off before sunrise, traveling by foot to the Foothill Stable where he hastily wrote and mailed a letter to his father back at Hyrule castle, then a letter meant for his mother, which he posted to the Hateno town hall.  He figured that in case he had been terribly wrong about everything and was to die in his attempt, his parents would know his fate._

_But, at the same time, he knew he would not fail.  As he neared the entrance to the Lost Woods, he paused and studied the thick mist, trying to make out the shapes of the gnarled trees that he had seen so many times in his dreams.  Though it was still daylight, he lit a torch, and followed the path of the embers as they led him deep into the mists.  The walk seemed short, and the menacing, eerie trees that had haunted his dreams were only but trees.  Before long, he reached a clearing that he had been seeing his entire life; the Master Sword before him surrounded by Silent Princess flowers.  As he approached, the Children of the Forest gathered around him, chattering with an odd mix of greetings and warnings that rose into a cacophony of tiny voices all around him.  All the while, he saw the hilt of the sword, and as he finally reached out to grasp it, the giant tree in front of him woke up, bark chipping away from his massive body as he spoke._

_Link had heard the Great Deku Tree speak many times in his dreams, and he dropped to one knee, his head bowed.  But this time, try as he might, he could not remember exactly what the Tree said.  In front of him is the sword, and when the Tree stops speaking, he takes the opportunity to stand up and pull it.  At first, it feels as though it is fighting him.  The hilt burns with a feeling like heat and electricity, and his heart ceases beating and instead starts fluttering.  He cannot breathe, but he must not stop now.  He feels his knees start to buckle, and just as he thinks that he had been wrong about everything, that he was indeed unworthy and would die and rot in this strange place, the sword yields to him.  Instantly healed, he stands up straight and holds it above his head, then takes a few practice swings, feeling at once the power, yet lightness of the sword._

_The Deku Tree speaks again, declaring him to be the Chosen One, the Light of the kingdom of Hyrule.  He now has a task in front of him to keep evil at bay wherever it may arise.  Link kneels again, but the Tree admonishes him, telling him to be on his way for he has much work to do._

_As Link stepped out of the Lost Woods and back into the Ridgelands, he saw the world with a new clarity.  Gone were the visions and the dreams and the compulsions, and they were replaced with….only him.  He sat down on the top of a hill and looked out towards the Castle, reveling in the absolute normalness that he felt._

 

Link shook his head again, pulling himself back to his bedroom in the present day.  There were so many times that he tried to comprehend what had happened to him, how it all seemed utterly backwards that he seemed to have returned to his old self after pulling the Master Sword.  Wouldn’t it make more sense that he would become an efficient, effective evil-destroying machine with his previous disposition?  Still, he was relieved to have been back to his normal self.  He remembered the sense of deep shame that flooded his mind as he sat on that grassy hill, as he recalled how dreadful he had behaved to his father, to Mipha, to his fellow squires and knights. 

 

As it turns out, making amends was not as difficult as he thought it would be, at least not as he rode back into Hyrule Castle with the Master Sword.  The Elders had verified that it was the true sword, that Link’s explanation of his dreams and stories all lined up with what they knew.  His father had given him a rare embrace, mentioning that he had gotten the letter and had been nearly prepared to go after him.  _“I was thinking I would need to find my own way into the Lost Woods if I had to, to bring you home.  I am…,”_ he had then choked up, _“I am so glad you have returned.”_ Link had then taken a few days’ leave of absence to travel to Zora’s Domain to visit Mipha, and after a heartfelt apology she had forgiven him for his behavior.  _“I knew it, perhaps I’ve always known you were the Chosen One.  From the moment you told me of your dreams, I should have recognized it.  Perhaps I should be apologizing to you.”_   She had told him.  He had swallowed a lump in his throat and given her a chuckle.  _“You always let me off way too easy.”_   He had said, blinking away tears. 

 

The other knights were apprehensive around him, not only because of his former disposition, but now he carried the Master Sword.  Link knew that the best way to return to their old kinship was through time.  Indeed, as he worked closely with them over the next year as he returned to his duties as a knight. Through planning, traveling, and fighting alongside them, he was able to once again see them as companions and friends, not just bodies occupying too much space on the training grounds, and weak sparring partners. 

 

Back in the present day, he cringed at the manner in which he had viewed his fellow knights.  _The Sword is supposed to be an instrument of Good.  Why did it make me behave in such a way?  Was it truly the Sword?  Or was it me?_ His eyes drifted to the object alongside of the Master Sword, and he studied the colorful patterns and prevalent symbols.

 

_Hylian Shield….._

 

Even though he was able to return to his life as a Knight of Hyrule, he knew that as the bearer of the Sword that Seals the Darkness, he was now something more.  He was a symbol of something greater, and many saw him as an omen of what was to come.  He thought back to the day in which he was sitting in court, listening to manners of the crown and an Elder had come to speak about him.

 

_“We see that the Sword has found its way back to us, and there has never been a time in Hyrule’s history that this did not precede the threat of evil in this land.  Indeed, there are bad omens all around us, and now with the appearance of the Sword, we know that evil is coming.”_

Link knew full well about the prophecies and stories; the lessons had been hammered into him as he grew up.  He knew that it was his ability to wield the sword, combined with the legendary power of the Hylian royal family that would beat back the Calamity wherever it might arise.  According to the earliest verifiable prophecy, Ganondorf was once but a man who had once tried to usurp the Hylian throne for himself and was thwarted by the princess and a boy of the Kokiri, who could speak to the sword.  Throughout the history of Hyrule, this similar pattern arose of the attempts of a Gerudo man to destroy the kingdom, only to be stopped by the princess and the one who wielded the Sword.  As the stories became more recent, Ganondorf had become simply Ganon, and his human form had turned into something more omniscient, more insidious.  The last appearance of a Ganon-like being some two hundred years ago had plunged the kingdom into darkness for a time, until, of-course, a boy from the now-abandoned Ordon village had come to assist the princess into wresting back control. 

 

The Elder was not wrong; there were indeed bad omens all around.  Link had noticed an uptick in the amount, and boldness of monsters out in the wilderness, and the frequency of blood moons had increased.  This alone sent quite a bit of religious fervor throughout the land; people would set out to travel to the Temple of Time to pray to the goddesses for safety.  Link knew the knights were often stretched thin as patrols increased to keep the travelers safe from the increased number of monsters.  Yet, they knew that it was a part of their job to keep the citizens safe and calm.  He remembered a quip uttered by his onetime rival turned close friend, Walsh.  _“I think it’s a fine thing, all of these monsters popping up.  After all, I don’t think I want to live in a world where there are no bokoblins to hunt!”_

Not surprisingly, the citizens of Hyrule did not share Walsh’s attitude.  The rumor that the Sword had reappeared spread through the land like wildfire, and the hysteria reached a fever pitch.  The appearance and use of the four enormous Divine Beasts did not help, nor did the insidious rumor that Princess Zelda had none of the Darkness-sealing powers that were unique to the Hylian royal family.

 

Link was not concerned with whether or not the Princess had power.  The way that the Sword found him, how it wormed its way into his mind and took over his body was bound to happen to the Princess as well.  She was a daughter of the Hylian Crown, and the Goddesses would speak through her in due time.  His job was to merely assist her so that it would happen.  And if it did not, he would need to embrace the Princess’s philosophy of finding another way, just as she did with her studies of the guardians and the Divine Beasts. 

 

He was now entering a world that was very different.  In his old life, he was given very straightforward, concrete goals, then it was up to him to use his skills, and the skills of the likeminded men and women around him to achieve this goals.  But now, he was out of his element, and the other champions recognized it.  He was no longer just a Knight of Hyrule, he was some sort of key, or a symbol that was instrumental to saving the world as he knew it.  He glanced again at the sword, and mentally cursed it for interrupting his life.  _It wasn’t my choice, was it?  The Sword chose me.  It invaded my thoughts, haunted my dreams.  It would not let me live._

He closed his eyes, forcing himself to accept all that had happened, and all that he was.  The Sword had identified him as the best one to wield it, and now he must.  He let various tidbits of advice that he had heard over the years run through his mind.

 

_“On your feet, Soldier.”_ Mattson had told him.

 

_“Don’t panic, just get started.”_   His mother had told him.

 

_“Explain your goal in one sentence, and let that sentence be the only thought that goes through your mind.”_   His father had told him.

 

He took a deep breath, and mentally repeated the line that he had spoken to King Rhoam. _I vow to protect Princess Zelda with my life, and help her destroy Ganon wherever, and whenever he may arise._

_These are the only things that matter._

He stood up, and returned to his packing. 

 

 

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 

A/N  (And spoilers for Breath of the Wild)

 

  * I simply love Breath of the Wild.  I am now playing in Master Mode after beating the normal mode, and I’m finding out new things every time I play (as well as remembering how hard the game is before you amass rupees, powerful weapons, and increase the defense on your clothing)



 

  * In the memories, Link has the Master Sword from the very beginning.  I highly doubt the Knights of Hyrule took regular field trips to see who among them could pull the Master Sword, so what all transpired to have him end up with it?



 

  * I wanted this story to reflect how Link himself is completely non-vocal in the memories. He is not a politician, nor any kind of leader, and his strengths lie in his fighting.   He recognizes this, and leaves the talking up to the other Champions.



 

 

 


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